Broken Wings
by ScOrChEd-pEtAl
Summary: Finding out that Kate knew about his confession all along, Castle takes Martha's advice and leaves for good. Little do they know, fate always gets its own way.
1. Prologue I

**Broken Wings**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. No money is being made off this fanfic.**

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><p><em>Prologue: I Quit!<em>

"I remember everything!" Her words seemed to echo in his head, taunting him.

She had known. After all this time…yet she had decided to go on pretending like nothing had happened. Clearly, she wasn't ready to reject him completely or she just didn't want to face him.

He remembered what his mother had said. Deep down, he knew she was right but that made it even harder to accept.

He tried to break it down. Connect the facts, like he used to whenever he was writing to make sure there weren't any plot-holes. Yet, Beckett's behavior didn't connect.

"Sometimes, it just isn't meant to be, Richard…" His mother's voice rang in his head.

He got it. So Beckett didn't like him that way. He could live with that. He could learn to accept it. The problem was what was he going to do now?

His eyes turned to an old bottle of scotch. He tried not to drink heavily when his family was home yet he didn't care about it today.

He wondered if he had gone numb, emotionally detached as his hands reached for the bottle…

"Richard? Richard!" A sharp voice made him open his eyes.

"Whazz goin' on?" He asked groggily, as he looked around. He was on the floor, having fallen off the couch at some point in the night. The empty bottle of scotch lay beside him with a bit of its contents spilled on the silk carpet. Apparently, he hadn't wanted to make it up to his room yesterday and had spent the better part of the night on the floor.

"Are you feeling alright, dear?" His mother asked.

"I am fine." He replied, trying to bite back a sharp cough as he stumbled to his feet. "I gotta go." He said, glancing at his phone.

"I'll get the help to clean that up."

"What help?" He heard his mother shout as he slammed the front door.

Putting on his coat, he hailed a cab from the street.

"Where to?"

"Just drive." He sighed, staring aimlessly at the passing streets until his phone buzzed again. It was her. He let it go to voice-mail.

It was only a thirty-minute cab ride later that he ended up at his favorite coffee shop, which also happened to be the one he used to frequently get coffee for her. It was also opposite the precinct.

He didn't know what brought him here, but he just couldn't stop himself from entering the shop, especially when he saw her standing in queue.

"Castle?" She turned to him in surprise. Her expression changed when she saw his face. "I've been calling you all d- Is something wrong?"

"I quit."


	2. Prologue II

Broken Wings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. No money is being made off this fanfic.**

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><p><em>Prologue II: "Moving on"…<em>

A cool breeze swept through, blowing his hair back a little. It was an exceptionally hot day and the air-conditioning in the cab was doing wonders.

Yet even this brief moment of solitude couldn't stop him from thinking of her face when he had told her. She seemed to look so…broken before a mask of indifference settled on her face. At least, that was what he hoped he had seen.

"Why do you wish to leave?" She asked, softly.

"…Because my research is complete." He said, pausing to swallow. "And I think…It's time to move on towards different waters."

That bit was at least true, he was moving on, moving past her. He was in the middle of another Derrick Storm novel. He was even attending all the Nikki Heat book signings he hadn't been able to attend before due to the cases.

However, none of that even came close to filling the void left by the sense of fulfillment he got from helping Beckett in catching the bad guys. It had felt like his own version of the Avengers.

He smiled. He had gotten used to working with the police. The sense of attachment didn't only extend towards Becket. While his mother was happy he had taken her advice, Alexis had been confused and even acted a bit disgruntled while Ryan and Espo had been dumbstruck when he had told them. In contrast to which, Captain Gates had looked relieved that he was "finally leaving the real detective work to the police". It seemed, in a way, everyone had been affected by his choice.

He usually settled on drinking heavily for the first few days after a breakup to drown his sorrows. However, he wasn't like that with this. A sense of finality seemed to have washed over him and he had instead started looking for better horizons. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it had never really been a "real relationship".

"What now?"

The answer to this question still evaded him.

Where did he go from here? Back to his "normal life"? Was such a thing even possible after the things he had done and the people he had saved or seen die?

The cab came to a standstill.

"We're here." He nodded and paid the fare. A small sight greeted him when he opened the door to his house.

"Hey Dad!" Alexis said, nodding towards the sofa. He couldn't say he was really surprised given the way Alexis always used to mother him. He knew a lecture was coming and he was prepared for it... At least he hoped he was.

"Hey sweetie!"

"We need to talk, Dad." She said, patting the seat next to her. He shifted chairs and settled for looking at her. She seemed to have grown in the past few months. Her work as an intern seemed to make her stronger and more passionate about her beliefs.

"What's the matter, darling?" He asked.

"Why did you quit?" She asked, simply. He sighed, pursing his fingers together as he delivered his well-rehearsed reply.

"There comes a time in every man's life, when it's time to move on…" He said, leaving the statement hanging.

"But, you only said it was about doing something meaningful…" She said.

"Circumstances change, honey… People's perceptions change…" He said.

"So you don't think it is meaningful?"

"I did not say that." He replied, sighing as he took her arms into his own. "What you are doing…What I was doing… I hope it made a lot of difference… and continues to do so..." He added, looking at her.

"Well, I am not quitting." She said, folding her arms together. He nodded.

"Of course, sweetie…"

The talk continued and he answered to the best of his ability until Alexis went up to bed. Deciding to finish up some work, he returned to his office. Instead of touching his laptop however, he went to his board and pressed a switch on the remote. Instantly pictures and fillings flashed across the screen.

He was moving on from her but that didn't mean that he would let her be in danger. He was going to solve the case and protect her from them. Even if he had chosen to do so from the sidelines.

"Hello Richard." The expected voice made him turn around. He nodded at the figure, noticing the man was sitting in his chair.

"I find myself deeply disappointed. I thought I made it clear that you were to remain at 12th Precinct to monitor Kate?" The man said.

"She won't go through her mother's case again." He said. The man raised his eyebrows.

"…And how can you be so sure?" The man asked.

"Be-" Whatever he was about to say was disrupted as a small object crashed through the window, landing in the middle of the two men. Surprised, the two men stared at the object and then at each other.

"It seems to me, Richard…That you were wrong."

He didn't say anything, thoughts of his family coursing through his mind as he stared at the small object on the floor which had the potential to destroy the whole building…

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><p>AN: Thanks for the awesome reviews! Hope this chapter meets a bit of your expectations.

lv2bnsb1: The story's merely beginning, though it was an interesting review and outlook, it gave me a lot of ideas. I hope you'll continue with the story though.


	3. Chapter 1

Broken Wings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. No money is being made off this fanfic.**

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><p><em>Chapter 1: "False" Alarm…<em>

A groan escaped his throat as he opened his eyes. He was in a dark room with dull grey walls, tied to a chair. He checked his bindings and immediately regretted it as the ropes etched deeper into his skin. Whoever had tied him up was a pro.

He considered screaming for help but discarded the idea when he found that his mouth had been gagged with a cloth that what he imagined tasted like a fresh dirty sock.

The door opened and he looked up as a familiar figure entered. It was that man. Mr. Smith, dressed in a shiny navy-blue suit with his hair glowing as if he had just taken a fresh bath.

"Mfghghh!" Smith nodded to him pacifyingly and undid the gag on his mouth.

"What? Am I- What's going on?"

"Relax. We'll talk, Richard. Just not here." Smith said, unbinding him. He sighed in relief, shaking his reddened arms.

"What about my family?" He asked, urgently.

"I can swear to you that they weren't touched. Now, I hate repeating myself." Smith said, ushering to the door.

He nodded. He was led out of the room and through a myriad of dull passages until a small door led them out into the street. Oddly enough, they didn't encounter a single soul in between of their brief movement.

Free at last, he found that it was morning as the sun's rays briefly blinding him upon exiting the mysterious little warehouse where he had ended upon.

"Where the hell are we?" He asked, looking around. This was not a part of town which he recognized and he liked to pride himself by saying that he knew nearly every inch of the city.

"Not now." Smith said, leading him by the arm through a couple of blocks. It was not until they ended up in front of a relatively small building that they stopped.

It was a small diner, going by the simple name of, "Ben's Fine Dining" and a rusted sign to welcome visitors.

Judging by the amount of customers at this time of the day, it catered to a relatively small crowd, most of which looked like they were recently unemployed and couldn't cook to save their own lives.

He didn't have a moment to comment upon as he was lead inside, gulping as he noticed the entire crowd look their way, and feeling oddly misplaced in his fine brown coat.

"Sit. I'll go get us something." Smith said, pushing him into a booth by the window. He pointedly looked back at the crowd until they turned back to their businesses as he waited for Smith.

Smith returned with a plate of fries and two cokes, the staple seller of the restaurant and about the only edible thing on the menu.

Having not eaten for what he presumed was hours, he grabbed a few fries, washing them down with the coke before turning questioningly to Smith who didn't even touch his meal.

"I guess I should start at the beginning." Smith said.

"You should." He said, nodding unnecessarily.

"I am sure you remember the fine object that landed up in your study. As it turns out, we were both mistaken about it. It was a measly smoke bomb, knocking us out nice and easy for people to stroll in through the front door and leave the same way."

"I find it hard to believe that my family didn't wake up through all this."

"I think they would have…if they could. Furthermore, I'll tell you why they wouldn't have even heard anything if they could have." Smith said, leaning in. "The people who dropped that bomb…The people who took us…all work for _him_."

"Him? As in, _him_ him?" He asked. Smith nodded. He looked down.

"So I was wrong? Beckett started looking up her mother's case again, didn't she?" He said.

To his surprise, Smith shook his head.

"Apparently, the reason those men took us is because _he_ has become aware of your…involvement in this." Smith said. "…And he did not like that at all."

"If he really is as powerful as you are making him out to be…" He started, pausing to sip his coke. "…Then why am I even alive at this point?"

"…Two reasons. First, he wanted to talk to me first which led me to strike up a bargain with him." Smith said. "I still need you alive to keep Beckett from looking into the case."

"Gosh, that makes me feel so wanted…" He said. Smith nodded, ignoring the sarcasm.

"It should." Smith said. "Because of you, we are now exactly one piece less in the puzzle."

"You gave him a file?" He asked in surprise, hoping against hope that Smith had made a copy.

"You think he would have let you go if I hadn't?" Smith retorted, raising his eyebrows. "Also, you are off the case. He's gonna have eyes and ears on you wherever you go. I can't risk you looking into it anymore now that he knows you're involved."

"Like…even when I pee?" He asked, trying to lighten the situation. Unfortunately, Smith thrust his hand on the table violently, sending the plate of fries flying a few inches before his eyes.

"You need to realize how serious this is and stop acting recklessly." Smith snarled, leaning back. "I was going to tell you what the file contained…but now I am not so sure why Roy even let you stay near Beckett."

"…I'll behave…" He said, softly. Smith shook his head.

"That file…" Smith paused, swallowing deeply. "…contained documents, financial records of 'that' time. It was a bit meaningless to an outsider like me but Roy obviously thought it was important and so did _he_. I couldn't see the connection. It all seemed out of place but one address did strike a chord. 23467, Park Avenue. According to the file, several 'drops' were made to that apartment. The trail has gone cold since then and the apartment is abandoned. It's a dead end so I gave the file back." Smith said, getting up abruptly. "Luck was on our side today…it won't be that way forever."

"Wait! What was the second reason?" He asked.

"For why he didn't just do away with you and talk to me later?" Smith questioned. He nodded. "…I guess it was due to your father. You should thank your lucky stars." It took him a few seconds for him to process this information but by the time he turned around, it was already too late. Smith was gone…


End file.
